The Eleventh Plague
by Yondaime Namikaze
Summary: When two-thirds of the population are wiped out by a deadly strain of influenza, those who remain are left to pick up the pieces and start over. 15-year-old Hiccup, born after the war, is among those who survive. Following the death of his grandfather, Hiccup is faced with another tragedy which ultimately leads him to Berk, a community of survivors. Can Hiccup trust these people?


**One last new story for your enjoyment. This story is one that I am adapting from a book I just read recently. I have attempted a post-apocalyptic HTTYD story before, but it (strangely enough) didn't seem too popular. Hopefully you enjoy this story a little better than my other story titled "So Cold". **

**DISCLAIMER: Because this is based on book, the original idea is credited to author Jeff Hirsch. Any lines (in this story) adapted straight from the book are also credited to this author. Title of this fiction is also credited to Hirsch.**

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><p>*~Part 1~*<p>

Chapter 1: Bury Your Dead

I sat at the edge of the clearing and tried not to stare at the body that lay on the ground in front of me. Dad had said we'd be done with this before dark, but it had been hours now since sunset and he was still only waist deep in the hole he was digging. Why was this taking so long? My father was a large man and it should have been easy for him to dig a hole deep enough for this task. If I had to guess, I'd assume it was because the dirt was hardened by the cooling temperatures. Just because the world ended didn't mean that the seasons didn't. Turning my attention back to my dad, I saw his face twist in irritation. He wished that he had a son that could help him dig out this hole, but, unfortunately, I'm all he had…and there was no way that I, a boy too small for his age, would be productive.

Waiting, I turned my gaze over to the burlap blanket covering the body, my grandfather's body. Even through the covering, I could see how much thinner he had become. The infection had hit hard, taking at least ten pounds (and most likely more) off his muscular build. From a tear in the burlap, his hand fell out and I could see the sickly tangle of veins cris-crossing over pale skin.

The scraping of Dad's shovel against rocks and hard dirt screeched through my ears, reminding me of the "nails on a chalkboard" stories my mother used to tell me before…yeah, before everything. I couldn't listen to this anymore, so I stood up and took a walk through the woods Stumbling through the darkness, I came to the edge of the hill where we had been camping.

Far below were the crumbling ruins of an old mall. Rows of old cars rusted in the moist air as they sat in the abandoned parking lot. Out beyond the mall, the arches of a McDonald's restaurant sign hovered like a ghost.

We'd been here before, walking these paths for as long as I could remember. I first saw the McDonald's and the mall ten years ago, when I was but five years old. The sign then had been brightly painted red and gold, but over the years, vines had snaked their way up the pole holding the sign.

Each time I saw the sign, I wondered how long it would be before the vines reached the top and the whole sign would topple to the ground. Would it be ten years? Twenty? Would I be Dad's age? Or Grandpa's?

I took a breath of the cool night air, but the image of Grandpa's hand lying there on the ground loomed in the back of my mind. It had been so still, so unlike the resilient man I remembered. He had been a strict man with so many survival rules. I could never remember them all.

_**He's gone now,**_ I told myself, as if I needed the reminder. _**Dad and I…we're on our own now.**_

"Hiccup!" The call came from my father. Oh, that's right, I forgot to mention that, in this world, many of us opted to use nicknames. Never know who could be trusted. My name, for all intents and purposes, is Hiccup. It's not the worst possible nickname…but it's definitely not the best either.

Not wanting to return empty-handed (my father would be upset if I was off "searching for trolls" or something), so I collected an armful of wood on my way back to our camp. The night was cool, but not cold enough for a fire, but I was sure my father wouldn't care, so I arranged the wood together when I returned to camp and scraped two pieces of my fire starter together until a spark caught. Satisfied, I sat back and watched the wood burn.

"Think this hole's deep enough yet, Son?" Dad asked as he leaned against the wall of the grave, his body slick with sweat and dirt. In response, I simply nodded. "Come on, then," he instructed. "Bring the ropes."

Dad climbed out of the hole and tied the ropes around Grandfather's body. All I could do was watch as Dad did all the work; I was too small to be of much help. He lowered Grandpa into the grave and then began to fill in the hole again. He never even pulled the ropes from the body. When the grave was filled, the shovel slipped from Dad's hands and he fell to his knees, doubling over with his arms around his stomach. His body seized with small tremors.

_**Oh, Gods. Please tell me that he's not sick too, like Grandpa had been!** _Running over to him, I dropped to my knees beside him. "Dad?"

When he turned, the light of the fire caught the tears that cut through the dirt on his face. I turned away as he cried. It was hard to watch. My father, like my grandfather before him, was strong and stubborn. Still, death is not something to be taken lightly. Even I knew this.

"We may have disagreed," my dad spoke out suddenly. "I didn't always approve of his survival methods in this world of ours, but…Gods, I can't argue that it's hard,knowing he's gone."

I said nothing. What could I say to this? How would I feel if I were in Dad's position, if I had just lost my father?

Dad's gaze was miles away, in the woods and focused on the dark trail that we would start down tomorrow morning. "Everything will be okay, though, Hiccup. We can make it through this without your grandfather. We will make it through this, survive in this world.

"Nothing's going to change, right, Dad?" I asked, my voice a little shaky with nervousness.

"No," he said, though his words sounded hollow and empty to my ears. "Nothing's ever going to change, Hiccup."

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><p><strong>I know this chapter is short, but that's because the chapter in the book was short. The next one will be much longer, though. I'm going to type this story up and then post the chapters as I feel. <strong>

**Thank you for reading and supporting this fanfiction! See you all next time!**

**Posted: October 4, 2014**


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